


Life, Freely Given

by carmenta



Category: Coldfire Trilogy - C. S. Friedman
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-18
Updated: 2005-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-11 20:56:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/117023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carmenta/pseuds/carmenta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens at the very end. Or what might be the very end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life, Freely Given

"There is a Working I want you to show me."

Gerald looked up at that, surprised. They were in the library, both browsing through the newest collection of publications on the Iezu, and such a request probably was one of the last things he had expected. Especially since Damien had rarely asked for demonstrations of Workings ever since the nature of the fae had changed, and not at all for years now.

"Which Working?" he asked. Damien couldn't blame him for the underlying note of hope that had crept into his voice. There was one Working he had wished to teach Damien for years now. Damien had always refused, with good reason.

"You mentioned the idea a while ago. A Knowing about the Iezu that could finally end this wretched translation project." Damien closed the book in his hands and laid it aside. He hadn't really been reading it anyway, merely turning the pages to keep Gerald from wondering. It was hard to concentrate on the text with other things on his mind, and so he had used it as a cover while watching his friend and thinking.

Gerald's eyes narrowed. "I discarded that idea years ago," he said. "Why do you want to know about it now?"

Damien met his gaze calmly. It had become easier to do that, over the years. Many things had become easier. "Because I'm going to put it to the test," he said.

"You cannot," Gerald said sharply, and Damien could tell that he had to struggle to keep himself from rising and pacing. "The link isn't strong enough for me to transfer enough fae to you. That Working requires far too much power for that."

"The link wasn't what I had in mind for this."

Gerald frowned. Then his face turned completely blank and Damien knew that he had understood.

"It would kill you," he said softly.

It would, at that. The fae required self-sacrifice now, but then the power was there for the taking. It was something Damien could accept, under the circumstances.

The theory Gerald had come up with wasn't complicated. A slightly modified Working would likely be strong enough to yield the answer to the riddle of Iezu communication. A very specific Knowing, targeted at spirits and not humans. Simple enough in theory, really, because all it was likely to take was Strength. Iezu could be Known, or at least Gerald was reasonably certain of it, and Damien trusted his demonological knowledge to be sound. A straightforward method, if it hadn't been for the Mother of the Iezu.

When she had created her youngest child from a part of Gerald Tarrant, she had done something to him to prevent him from ever Working anything connected to her children again. After having to watch him kill Calesta, she probably couldn't be blamed for that precaution. But it meant that the one man who could still perform such a Working and survive to speak of the results was forever blocked from it. And anyone else would have to give his life and take the knowledge to the grave. There was little doubt that it would be fatal; Damien and Gerald had kept track of attempts at Working the fae, and if there was one consistent pattern, then it was that the more difficult and intense the Working, the more likely the Worker was to die.

Damien had thought about that problem quite a lot, and had come to the conclusion that perhaps it wasn't merely a theoretical exercise after all. Not if the gained knowledge could be Shared before death. A normal Sharing would take too long, which likely was the result why Gerald had never attempted to coerce another sorcerer into Working that Knowing. Or if he had given it a try, it hadn't been successful and he had managed to hide it from Damien. Which wasn't easily accomplished these days. What it came down to was that the knowledge would be lost and a life would be wasted in gaining it.

Unless the Worker happened to share a mind link with another person which made it possible to read thoughts. No delay, as it was the case with a Sharing, and anything one half of the link knew, the other knew too if it was willingly and deliberately offered. It was something Damien had been aware of for a long time, and the possibility had always been present in some small corner of his mind. But while their translation work had made good progress there had been no need to consider it in earnest. Lately, though, it had become clear that at least Damien would never see the end of the project and that the next generation or two had no hope whatsoever of benefiting from the results gained so far.

He had remembered then, but he had still waited. Until last night, when he had suddenly woken, shivering from the force of an unasked-for Divining. Despite the inability to Work the fae by himself any longer, he was still sensitive enough to catch occasional glimpses or cause an uncontrolled Working. The bond with Gerald increased that sensitivity, no doubt, but Damien knew that he wasn't the only one with sorcerous potential who sometimes managed unplanned Workings. Divinings and Seeings happened most often, for no apparent reason, and Damien was tired of speculating. It happened, and most of the time it was merely irritating.

The one last night had been different. It had shown a variety of futures, but they had all, without exception, had one thing in common.

Damien Vryce was not in them.

He had always hoped that he would know the hour of his death. He had been expecting it to happen for a while now, at his age – nobody lived forever without fae-powered tampering, and he'd never have been able to do that on himself. It went against everything he had been taught, everything he believed in. Accepting death as natural and therefore inevitable was hard, and it became even harder with age. But it was the ultimate demonstration of belief in the Church's teachings. Damien had always been in favour of the Church's followers being permitted to use the fae, but never for their own purposes. He'd tried to follow this rule as much as he could, even though the lines sometimes became blurred. But he'd never done a Working that served merely his own purposes.

Gerald had argued countless times that this wasn't part of the dream, that the Prophet would never have condoned such an addition to the codices which lay at the centre of the Church's foundation. But he had never been able to convince Damien to let go of this belief that ultimately the ideal world would be one without fae, and that therefore a refusal to use this power was a step towards that goal. It wasn't something Gerald could accept, not after choosing excommunication over giving up his sorcery. And yet he had respected Damien's choice in the end, albeit reluctantly, and had given his word that he would not do anything that would tamper with the natural limit of the former priest's time.

He had obeyed that promise to the letter. Damien was only too well aware that he owed his incredibly good health and general condition to Gerald's discreet little Healings and Workings. A man of his age shouldn't look as though only one year in five had really had an effect on him. But there were some aspects which couldn't be affected by these Healings. The heart muscles tired. Blood cells weren't produced so quickly anymore because the bone marrow couldn't keep up any longer. Lungs became less effective. Signs of wear and tear, and to undo them a Healing wouldn't be enough. It would require a Working which influenced the natural flow of things. Adepts were capable of it, and many of them succumbed to the temptation. It was the kind of Working Damien had forbidden to Gerald.

And now it seemed that his body had reached its natural limitations. Damien had been aware for a while that his time was coming to an end, and after last night he had no doubts about the immediacy anymore.

He wasn't sure he was prepared for it – could anyone be? But if there was one thing he had learned in his life, it was that death freely accepted still was the most powerful tool this planet had to offer. He remembered his oath to the Church and to God, taken so long ago. Uphold the ideals of the Church of the Unification. Follow the teachings of the Prophet, but not his example. And achieve the final goal, now that mankind could begin to control Erna, and bring them back to the stars.

"Will you teach me?" Damien asked again. "Or do I have to find out by myself?"

Gerald was staring at the bookshelves, but Damien was certain he wasn't actually seeing them. He didn't have to feel for the slight buzzing along the link to know that Gerald was Working. And it took even less to guess that the Working in question was a Divining.

"I will," Gerald said after long minutes, still not looking at Damien. "Though I wish you would not ask this of me."

Damien smiled faintly. "A chance of success for all should not be ignored, even if it may come at a cost to oneself," he quoted quietly.

"The Prophet was a naive idiot when he wrote that," Gerald muttered.

"Maybe. But he was right about many things. Like that if I'm going to die anyway, I might as well give my death meaning."

Gerald did look at him at that, face pale and eyes shadowed.

"You're insane if you think that the Hunter's example is worth following," he whispered.

Damien smiled more fully. "Quite possibly. I've had a good teacher, after all."


End file.
